


Henry Stein Studios

by GreatComet1812



Series: Henry Stein Studios AU [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: 1970s, Abuse, Aftermath, Alternate Universe, Asylum Joey Drew, Attempted Suicide, Bendy Cartoon Reboot, Body Horror, F/M, Henry Stein Saves Everyone, Henry Stein Studios, M/M, Mental Asylum, OCs - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reboot AU, Suicide, Trauma, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24023443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreatComet1812/pseuds/GreatComet1812
Summary: It's been almost a year since Henry Stein destroyed the infamous Ink Machine and freed the studios workers from it's prison. Nobody has aged over the past 30+ years, and despite the fact that the wretched contraption was now supposedly destroyed, the ink still seems to reside within every single tortured soul, even Henry himself.As for the studio, it's now been completely renovated and refurbished to fit in with the modern technology of the 1970's. Henry is now the singular CEO of Henry Stein Studios, the new and improved animation studio on the block ready to compete with the likes of Bugs Bunny, Scooby Doo, and School House Rock with a new cartoon of it's very own. "Bendy and the Creator," a lovely reboot of the original devil darling's show that once entertained a now much older generation.Will the revamped workers find comfort in their newly recreated lives, or will the dastardly ink hold onto them forever?
Relationships: Grant Cohen/Shawn Flynn, Henry Stein/Linda Stein, Jack Fain/Sammy Lawrence, Joey Drew/Henry Stein, Lacie Benton/Bertrum Piedmont, Susie Campbell/Johnny, Thomas Connor/Allison Pendle, Wally Franks/Norman Polk
Series: Henry Stein Studios AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761178
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	1. The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Please check the tags for the possible trigger warnings

A middle-aged man collapsed into a large chair in the central room of a set of long, worn hallways of an old, long abandoned, animation studio. He kept his teeth sunk into the skin of his pale lower lip, trying to keep himself quiet as he listened to the deep, pained growls of the creature slowly melting in front of him. The man’s wide, green eyes darted around at the different screens posted up around the walls, seeing all the old cartoons he’d spent so much time helping create playing around him. He pushed up his square-framed glasses and wiped the sweat from his chin stubble with a shaky hand, which he then ran through his messy, greasy, midnight black hair. The man wore a white, button-up shirt with a black bow tie and matching suspenders and dress pants, along with a pair of black loafers to finish off the outfit. It’s possible that he would’ve looked rather nice if he wasn’t disheveled and covered in thick, black ink from running around the condemned workplace.

This man was known by the creature before him as The Creator. However, he was known by everyone else as Henry Stein, the retired animation director of the retired animation studio, Joey Drew Studios.

The creature, whom Henry simply knew as the Ink Demon, tried to lunge it’s melting form towards the man, but to no avail. What had once been a large, skinny figure that could haunt even the bravest of men’s nightmares with it’s crooked smile was now melting away like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. There was a large flash of blinding light from the multiple projectors overheating after so many years of being abandoned, until eventually, everything went dark.

Finally, after all this time, Henry had done it. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself still sitting in the single chair in the center of the viewing room. He was almost completely covered in ink, splatters of the black substance lining the floor and walls, marking all that was left of the Ink Demon. The man dropped his axe, his hand cramped from how tight he’d held it, and let out a relieved sigh. A cheery, nostalgic theme song plays throughout the halls, slowly persuading the exhausted retired animator into a much needed slumber.


	2. The Creator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry runs into Wally on his way to the break room only to have a discomforting memory return to him.

The day had been a slow and peaceful one. It was the middle of autumn, so all those who were required to leave for work that day would at least be able to view the beauty of nature as the leaves fell from the trees in an array of colors. One of these people, a middle aged man, calmly sat at his desk in his own workplace, sketching out a beautiful picture of the tree that stood outside his window. He wore a clean, white button-up shirt with a black bow tie and matching suspenders, dress pants, and loafers. Over the outfit he wore a beige suit jacket.

This man was known by all as Henry Stein, CEO and Animation Director of Henry Stein Studios, the company responsible for the popular reboot of the original Bendy cartoon, Bendy and the Creator.

Bendy and the Creator followed the story of the little devil darling himself, now shrunk to the size of a mouse, and the Creator, a charismatic, easily frightened man modeled after a younger version of Henry. The two have to find their friends in this strange world all while trying to find a way home and avoid the wrath of the Destroyer and the Ink Demon, the main villains.

It’d been a slow day at the workplace thus far, and they’d gotten their newest episode completed early, so now everyone was free for the remainder of the work day. Henry let out a tranquil sigh as he heard the calm piano playing from the music hallway close by. He smiled down at his sketch and closed his small journal, draining the rest of the sugary liquid from his coffee mug. He stood up with another relaxed breath, putting his pencil behind his ear and grabbing his journal and mug, calmly leaving the office and heading to the break room.

As he made his way down the cool, clean hallway he began to pass by the music department. He looked through the large glass window that showed what was going on in the main rehearsal room, and smiled at the two people sitting together. 

The first man was playing the piano. He was tall and thin, almost unhealthily, and he kept his sparkling blue eyes closed as his smooth tenor voice hummed a melody that matched with the sounds of the piano. His long, slightly curly, brown hair spread around his head, still well kept despite not being in any specific style. His pale face was shaped into a calm smile as he let the melody invade his thoughts. He was wearing a white button up with a blue sweater vest and black tie, his slacks and loafers matching his tie. The young man was Sammy Lawrence, the music director of the studio.

The other, shorter man was plucking a banjo in tune with the piano. He was pale, his brown hair slicked back under his beige bowler hat. His hazel eyes seemed to sparkle as he watched Sammy playing so passionately. A slight pink blush was visible on his cheeks as his fingers trembled over the strings of his instrument. He wore a light blue button up with beige suspenders and pants, his loafers a darker shade of brown that matched the small cravat he had tied around his neck. The smaller man was Jack Fain, the lyricist and Sammy’s assistant, best friend, and secret admirer.

Henry couldn’t help but laugh a little seeing how infatuated Jack was. Everyone seemed to know about his crush except Sammy, who instead had a crush on the unmarried lead voice actress, Susie Campbell. Just as disheartening was that everyone besides Sammy seemed to know that Susie liked someone else as well, yet nobody seemed to know exactly who. Henry let out a sad sigh as he thought of what Sammy’s reaction would be once he actually confessed to Ms. Campbell. He made a mental note to make sure that he gives Jack or Sammy a break for the rest of the day when that eventually comes to pass, depending on how the event happens.

Henry continued on his way and stopped again to hear the sound of whistling nearby. He smiled, recognizing the friendly sound just as the person making it came around the corner, carrying a broom.

His skin was slightly tanned, dark freckles dotting his baby face, and he wore a small, barely noticeable bandage under his chin. His messy, brown mop of hair was pulled back into a ponytail under his newsboy’s cap, his brown eyes sparkling mischievously. He wore a blue button up that was missing a button in the middle, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He had a set of brown suspenders over the shirt, matching his brown, patched up pants and slightly darker shaded boots that those pants were stuffed into. This man was Wally Franks, the janitor and assistant handyman of the studio.

“Oh, hiyah Mistah Stein!” the younger man cheerfully shouted in a juvenile, tenor, Brooklyn accent as he walked up to the animator.

“Ah, hey Mr. Franks. Please, I’ve told you before you can call me Henry,” The CEO said in response, his voice lower and less accented.

“I know, and I’ve told yah thatcha can call me Wally!” Wally laughed his reply, causing Henry to start laughing as well. “Anyhow, whatcha doin’ Hen? Watchin’ Jack tryna man himself up to fine’ly ask Sammy out?”

Henry just shrugged. “I’m out of coffee, I was heading to the break room and decided to just check up on everyone to make sure everythings okay.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” Wally replied, his voice dropping lower in volume, “Don’t want anythin’ like what happened last week when we finished early…” His shoulders drooped as he thought back to it.

Henry couldn’t help but shiver. “Y-Yeah, very true…” Henry looked around the hall and flinched slightly, a memory coming to his mind. Not of last week, but of a time long before.

-.-

Henry slowly woke up to find himself being carried. He jolted awake and let out a scream, his instincts causing him to punch the other person in the chin and practically jump out of their arms and away, pressing himself against the wall with terror in his eyes. The other person let out a pained shout and doubled back the opposite direction, wincing in pain and holding his chin.

“What the hell?!” He shouted in a tenor, Brooklyn accent. “Henry, calm down it’s just me! Yah know, Wally?!”

Henry paused, hesitantly relaxing as he looked the younger man up and down. He was shorter than Henry, covered in just about as much ink as him however. His skin was slightly tanned, dark freckles dotting his chubby face. His messy brown mop of hair poofed out around his head and under his newboy’s cap, his brown eyes were much less mischievous than Henry remembered them to be. He wore a slightly tattered, blue button up that was missing a button in the middle, the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He had a set of brown suspenders over the shirt, matching his patched up brown pants and slightly darker shaded boots that those pants were stuffed into. Tears slowly formed in Henry’s eyes as he stared at the man in front of him.

“W-Wally…?” Henry stuttered out, his voice shaky and low pitched. “W-Wally Franks?!”

“Yeah, it’s me, what’s goin’ on H-” He was cut off by the retired animator tightly wrapping his arms around him, starting to cry. He hadn’t seen another human being in so long, let alone someone he personally knew, and the feeling of relief had finally sent his emotions over the edge. Wally had been the janitor for Joey Drew Studios, and Henry had many fond memories of his whistling and showing a friendly attitude towards everyone. “Henry?” Wally asked, awkwardly rubbing his back. “Everything okay? Haven’t seen yah round here for awhile I thought you’d quit…”

Henry paused and then glanced up at Wally, confused. “I… I did… I-I quit over 30 years ago, before the studio closed down. Were you not here when the place closed?”

“Closed? The studio nevah closed… I don’t think… I don’t remember a lot, but has it really been 30 years? Thought you’d left a few weeks ago, yah know, before Ms. Campbell-” Wally’s eyes suddenly widened and he went silent. He started to shake as he looked around the hallway.

Henry stood up straight, looking down at the shorter man. “Wally… what’s the last thing that you do remember?”

The janitor flinched, memories slowly starting to come back to him. Henry leaving, the sudden disappearance of the lead voice actress, Susie Campbell, his private meeting with Joey a few days after, and… darkness. Everything began flooding back all at once, causing Wally to start getting lightheaded. Henry wrapped an arm around his shoulders to keep him stable.

“Here, let’s talk for awhile, okay? I’ll try to lead us out of here on the way.”

-.-

Henry was shaking as the memory came to him. He slowly glanced up at his friend, a nervous expression on his face as he looked at the small bandage covering the permanent bruise under his chin.

“Is… your chin okay?” Henry asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Wally paused, then sighed, giving him a comforting smile. “Fine, Henry. Doesn’t even hurt anymore, I just wear the bandaid cause I knows the bruise bothers yah. What about you? Yah doin’ okay?”

Henry took a deep breath, relaxing his body as he tried to clear his mind. “Yes, I’m okay. Do you wanna come with me to the break room?”

Wally smiled, happy to change the subject. “Sure thing! I wouldn’t mind at all!” 

With that, the two began walking together, making their way past the music department and to the break room.

By the time the animator and the janitor walked inside, there were already a few people frequenting the tables. At one table sat a husband and wife along with a third, taller woman. At another there was a tall, sophisticated looking Brit, a shorter, younger Irishman, and a yet smaller, spunky looking woman. Finally, at the third table, a short man sat alone flipping through multiple journals and typing things out on a calculator, along with a young guy quietly drawing in a sketchbook and sipping coffee. Everyone besides the man with the calculator looked up when the two walked into the room and smiled.

“Top o’ the mornin’ to yah, Henry!” Chimed the Irishman in a chipper, high tenor tone, who could be seen sketching out what looked like a toy design on a piece of paper. His dyed, green hair swept over to the side under his black newsboys cap, the stubble on his face a dark brown that matched his eyes, which sparkled with the same level of mischief as Wally’s did. He had splatters of black paint on his face and hands that seemed almost permanent, and his white button-up sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. His pastel green bow tie matched his suspenders, but you couldn’t really see his suspenders under the beige, paint stained painter’s smock he was wearing. His pants and boots were both naturally black, though some splatters of white paint were visible on the boots. This was Shawn Flynn, the head of the toy and merchandise department of the studio. He was known to always make the first prototypes of his toys by hand, which usually made them all the more special in the end.

Henry smiled and gave a nervous laugh in response, setting his coffee mug by the machine on a nearby counter as the machine began to dispense coffee into it. “I’m doing fine, Shawn, how are you?” Henry’s tone softened slightly. “Are you doing okay after last week?”

Shawn paused for a moment, everyone going quiet. He slowly nodded. “I am… thank you for bein’ understandin’ about all that. Sorry that I bothered yah with it…”

Henry quickly shook his head, giving him a calm smile. “No need to worry about it, it’s happened to all of us at some point. I almost had a moment just earlier today…” He laughed nervously. “But that’s okay! I’m fine now, and so are you, and so is everyone else.”

Shawn smiled a little, the tenseness that’d fallen on the room starting to relax. With that, Wally and Henry sat down with the rest of the group and everyone continued their usual friendly conversation and banter.


	3. Disappearing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry comes home to find an interesting letter from his wife, Linda. This causes him to be reminded of another dark memory.

Henry went home that day to find a note waiting for him on the coffee table. He sighed, recognizing the handwriting of his loving wife, Linda. He sat down on the small sofa, picked up the note, and started to read it.

Dear Henry,  
I haven’t had the time to tell you this in person, and I’m very sorry for that. I just want you to know that I’m visiting Olivia over the next two weeks. If you’d like me to, I feel that this would be a good time to tell her the truth. Use the number on the back of this paper to let me know what you’d like for me to do. I love you, and I’ll be back soon, maybe with Olivia if everything goes as I’m hoping.  
With love,  
Linda

Henry’s eyes slowly filled with tears as he stared down at the letter. Olivia was his daughter, a wonderful grown woman who he hadn’t seen since she was very young. She thought that he was dead, and Henry felt horrible to have let her believe that for such a long time. Memories started to flood back to him, the paper shaking in his hands. Memories of the old studio. The horrible deadlines. The work hours. The workers slowly growing more tense and angry with each other. And finally, at the center of it all, the boss. Joey Drew.

-.-

It was a cold afternoon in the middle of winter, and the old studio was colder than ice. Henry luckily remembered to wear a jacket that day, but despite that he was still trembling at his desk as he tried to finish the last few storyboard frames he needed. He would never understand why Joey had told them that they had to come in on as cold a day as today, especially since it was only a few days before Christmas, and the studio didn’t have proper heaters. He sighed, his breath puffing into a small cloud in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t complain, it happened every year. So long as Mr. Drew didn’t make his people work on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day (or any other special holidays depending on the religion of the other workers), he could do whatever he pleased. 

Luckily, Joey Drew was at least fair with his horrid schedule. Norman Polk, the Projectionist, was going to be off for eight days after Christmas to celebrate Kwanzaa with his family. Grant Cohen, the finance director, had been let off starting just the day before for Hanukkah. However, Joey was required in his contracts with partnering businesses to allow all workers to be off of work during whatever holidays they celebrated. If he wasn’t required there was high doubt among the workers, including Henry, that he would ever let them have a break day no matter how sick they were or how important the holiday was to them. It was simply the way Joey was and had been for about a year now.

Speaking of the Devil, a sound came over the speakers down the hall, close to Henry’s worn desk.

“Henry Stein, please report to my office!” projected a positive, tenor voice over the intercom.

Henry rolled his eyes, gathering up the frames he’d finished and heading towards Joey’s office, shivering as he went. He passed by the music department, noticing a group of people crowded around the door to the practice room. He remembered Norman complaining the other day, something about Sammy kicking everyone out and locking himself up in the room alone? He shrugged it off, making a mental note to ask Sammy about it later, then continued on his way.

He took the stairs, remembering how Thomas Connor, the head of the maintenance department, had mentioned that the elevator wasn’t stable. The animator made his way down the stairs, and started to make his way past the toy department. He stopped for a moment, hearing Shawn angrily ranting to someone in his office, presumably Grant or Lacie since they were his closest friends in the studio, though rumors had spread that it was possible he was dating one of them. 

“-And if he really wants to be so helpful he could be tellin’ me what I’m to be doin’ with this warehouse I got full of that angel whatchamacallit. Not a scrap of that mess be sellin’!”

Henry made a mental note of that, remembering that their newest character to the cartoon, Alice Angel, wasn’t becoming as popular as they’d hoped for her to be, so they were now even more in debt than they already were since Joey had decided to start producing toys so soon. He sighed, continuing on his way before he could be noticed by the Irishman. 

Finally, he made it to Joey’s office. With the amount of times he’d call for Henry a day, a normal person would think that he would’ve put his office closer to the animation department. However, Joey Drew was, of course, not a normal person. Henry knocked on his office door.

“Come in!” called the voice from the intercom.

Henry walked inside to find Joey at his desk, as usual. Joey’s hair was a blinding bright blonde, slicked back and properly combed. His dark, navy eyes had a sparkle of wonder in them, the same sparkle that struck fear and annoyance into the hearts of all who worked for him, the sparkle of a man who believed in his dreams before his logic. His pale hands sat over one another on his desk as he gave Henry a calm, yet mischievous smile. His suit was pastel blue, his tie black along with his tophat that he had sat down on the side of his desk.

“Hello, Henry,” charmed Mr. Drew, “How are those frames coming along?”

Henry shivered, the room being colder than the animation department. He set his folder on the desk in front of Joey. “They’re right here. I only need a few more and the episode will be complete…”

Joey gave a small laugh, not even touching the folder. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll send for the other animators to finish the episode. I have a different task for you…”

Henry paused, his eyes widening a little. He found himself both excited and questionable at the same time, for he was happy to be able to do something else besides hunching over his cold desk all day, but at the same time when Joey said things like this it usually meant he had a new idea. Anytime Joey had a new idea it always ended up becoming a waste of time, a waste of space, and a waste of money, which always drove Grant into a slowly building insanity.

“What do you want me to do?” Henry asked, hesitantly.

“Just follow me. It’s a simple task, I promise. Nothing much at all…” Joey charmed as he rolled out from behind his desk, for he was wheelchair bound. 

Henry stood up, skeptically making his way towards the door. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain and something hit him in the back of the head, causing him to collapse and for everything to go dark.

-.-

Henry flinched as he was pulled out of the memory, shaking as tears streamed down his face. He had been so oblivious back then. So naive. So easy to manipulate. He shook the thoughts away, not wanting to pull himself further into the memory. He set the now slightly crumpled paper back onto the table and picked up the phone to tell Linda his decision. That fateful day, Joey took everything from Henry in an instant. He refused to let him take his daughter’s father away from her any longer. She deserved to know the truth, no matter how hard it was for Henry himself to face it.


	4. The Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a meeting between all the department heads, Shawn gives everyone an interesting surprise.

The next day was very special for the workers of Henry Stein Studios. This was the day that they would finally be able to start working on the season finale for Bendy and the Creator. Everyone was excited to get started, for they’d already began planning out the characters for Season 2 and this was going to be the episode that they were teased at in preparation for the new collection of episodes. A meeting was called between all the department heads, who now sat together in a large conference room close to Henry’s office. 

Henry was there, of course, since he was the CEO. He sat at the head of the table, a folder of sketches and concept art sitting beside him. Next to him sat his young assistant and head of the animation department, Buddy Lewek. He was tall and skinny, his face tanned from frequent sun. His hair was soft, curly, and brown, his eyes a calm hazel. He wore a plaid flannel with rolled up sleeves, patched up beige overalls and dark brown boots. He remained close to the concept art as well, for he’d helped to draw the pictures. 

On his left was Sammy Lawrence, representing the music department. He had a folder and a small recorder sitting next to him, the recorder containing snippets of the songs he’d come up with and the folder containing sheet music. 

On Henry’s right stood a tall, dark-skinned man with curly, black hair, wearing a pastel yellow button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a pair of brown pants, also rolled up, and a pair of black boots. This man was Norman Polk, the Projectionist of the studio, and he was doing what he did best. He was working the projector so that everyone could easily present their ideas to each other through the screen.

Sitting next to Norman was a tall, imposing man with pale skin tanned from working outside. He had black hair that was combed over one of his green eyes. He wore a navy blue button up shirt with rolled up sleeves and a black tie, along with a long, brown apron that covered the rest of his outfit. This was Thomas Connor, and he represented the janitorial and maintenance department of the studio, however, it wasn’t much of a department since it was just him and Wally. Speaking of Mr. Franks, he was sitting next to Thomas, a few rolled up blueprints stacked in a neat pile between them. Next to Wally sat Shawn Flynn, representing the toy and merchandise department.

Across the table, next to Sammy, sat a short, pale, nervous looking man with a messy, brown mop of hair and a pair of wide, hazel eyes which only looked bigger behind his large round glasses that seemed to always sit at the tip of his nose. He wore a grey plaid suit jacket with a pink bowtie and white button up underneath, and a pair of black pants with matching loafers. This was Grant Cohen, the one and only member of the finance department. As he’s known to do, he was sitting and fidgeting with his calculator, a large pile of notebooks stacked up next to him.

Finally, next to Grant, sat a tall, sophisticated, British man with neatly combed brown, slightly greying hair and a nicely trimmed beard. He wore a full grey suit with a red tie and black dress shoes. This was Bertrum Piedmont, the special projects director. He had a few blueprints with him along with some notes.

They may have been a small group, but none of them really minded. It was much easier to get things done in a small group anyway. Henry smiled, glad to know that everyone was there, and trying to hide the war going on in his mind over the letter Linda had left for him. He told her that she could tell Emily the truth, but he was still scared to face the truth himself. Henry would be seeing his daughter for the first time in over 30 years in two weeks, and he hadn’t changed at all. Literally, hadn’t changed whatsoever, not physically, and he wasn’t going to change for a very long time. Henry kept all of these thoughts in the back of his mind, taking a deep breath.

“Alright, good morning everyone. Does anyone have anything they’d like to say before we get started?” Henry spoke calmly, surprising even himself with how well he was able to contain his emotions.

Shawn raised his hand as if he were a student in class. Henry gestured to him. “Yes, Mr. Flynn? You could’ve just spoken up you know you don’t have to raise your hand.” He laughed a little.

Shawn nodded, putting his hand down, his expression nervous. “I found somethin’ weird in my office yesterday… I wanted tah wait until I had all a yah here before I showed it to anyone.” He reached down next to him for a small box he’d sat down on the floor, gently placing it onto the table in front of him.

Henry tilted his head. “Okay, what is it, Shawn?”

Shawn slowly opened the box, gently pulling out a ball of black clay and setting it on the table, moving the box aside. Everyone stared at the small blob in confusion.

Henry paused. “It’s clay? Isn’t that normal in your department?”

Shawn shook his head. “Usually yes, but there’s somethin’ ‘bout this little ball here… look.” He gently reached out his finger and poked the small mass. The top of it slowly started to move up and down, as if it were breathing. Everyone’s expressions turned to shock, except for Grant’s, who wasn’t paying any attention, still focused on his calculator.

Sammy bit his lip. “What the hell?”

Henry walked around the table, taking the seat opposite of Shawn from Wally to get a closer look. “How long has it been doing that?”

Shawn just shrugged. “It’s been sittin’ on my desk in this little case. I took it outta there yesterday cause I got bored and started playin’ with it. Then it just started movin’ around in my hands on it’s own!”

Henry’s eyes went wide as a memory came to him. He remembered playing with this same ball of clay. Back at the old studio, one of the few occasions he was able to relax without the Ink Demon chasing after him, he’d found that ball of clay on Shawn’s old desk and molded it into different things. He gently reached out towards the small mass.

The little ball rolled towards him and into his hand on it’s own accord, as if attracted to him like a magnet. Henry’s eyes went wide. He gently poked the ball, and it seemed to practically jump in his hand. He looked over to Shawn, who had a twinkle of wonder in his eyes.

“Could dat be from… back then?” Norman spoke up, his raspy, southern accent shining through.

Henry nodded. “I… I think so…”

Henry thought for a moment, then slowly started to shape the clay into a figure. He gave it legs and large shoes, a round body, two arms and gloves for hands, and finally a large, round head with two horns sticking up. He gave a small smile to the little Bendy figure he’d shaped, when suddenly, the figure smiled back. With a strange ‘pop!’ the figure suddenly changed. It was now almost a replica of the little devil darling Henry had shaped it into. It wore a white bowtie, and it had a white face with pie cut eyes and a small, happy smile. Henry’s eyes widened as the thing slowly started to stand up in his hand.

Wally stood up quickly, letting out a small shout of fear. Buddy stood up as well, backing against the wall.

“What the hell?! It’s alive?! And it’s Bendy?!”

The tiny clay Bendy hopped down from Henry’s hand, comically landing on its face on the desk then quickly standing as if it didn’t feel a thing. The creature looked around at everyone with a childlike wonder in its eyes. Everyone was surprisingly calm, they’d all seen stranger things in the studio before, yet they couldn’t keep the shock from their faces. Henry’s smile didn’t leave his face, him and Shawn sharing the same surprised, yet childlike, joyful expression. Tiny Bendy watched them, and then tried to copy their expression, causing the two of them to gasp with surprise. 

“He’s a stable little fellow, isn’t he?” Bertrum spoke, his voice deep and accented.

“He’s strange…” Buddy stated plainly, his accent not as noticeable.

“Can we keep ‘im, Henry? Please?” Shawn looked up at him excitedly, like a boy finding a stray dog. The small Bendy suddenly jumped into Shawn’s shirt pocket, poking his head out innocently.

Henry smiled. “Why wouldn’t we? He needs somewhere to stay, and I have a feeling most people aren’t used to small, living clay creatures. So long as we make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble and keep him hidden from visitors, I think it should be fine.”

“Are you crazy?!” Sammy suddenly exclaimed, all eyes turning to him, causing him to nervously blush and glance away from everyone. “E-Excuse my outrage, b-but we don’t even know if that thing is dangerous. What if it ends up like Jo…” he trailed off, realizing what he was about to say, his hands shaking under the table as he kept his eyes glued to his folder of sheet music.

Henry paused for a moment, a tense silence going over the room. Thomas glanced up at Sammy, having stayed mostly silent the whole time, which was usual for him.

“If it’s dangerous, we kill it. It’s that simple.” Thomas spoke plainly, his voice deep and gravelly. 

Shawn’s eyes went wide, the tiny Bendy sinking into his shirt pocket to hide. The Irishman instinctively wrapped his hands gently around the pocket. Wally took a hold of Shawn’s arm, trying to comfort him.

Henry paused, looking at Thomas, but slowly nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry Shawn, I doubt that it is dangerous, but that’s what we’ll have to do. We can’t have another… incident…”

Shawn glanced down at the tiny Bendy, then gave a sad sigh. He tensed up a little, memories running through his head. “I understand…”

Wally noticed his tenseness and calmly wrapped a friendly arm around the toymaker. Soon enough, a second set of arms were wrapped around Shawn's waist as Grant quietly sneaked his way over to the other side of the table to comfort his friend, suggesting there was possibly more there since the accountant usually didn't like to be touched and he willingly allowed Shawn to run a calloused hand through his hair as a silent thank you. The janitor glanced down at the tiny Bendy in Shawn’s pocket, slowly smiling. “He’s kinda cute… I think I can get used to him, so long as he isn’t plotting to kill us.” Wally laughed, clearly joking, his Irish friend laughing along.

Everyone seemed to relax a little from his quip, and the room became less tense very quickly. Even Sammy seemed to relax, though it seemed to be more from Thomas’ words than his shorter partner’s. Henry let out a relaxed sigh and stood up, making his way back to his chair.

“Alright, if that’s all, I believe we might as well start the meeting.”

Norman nodded, turning on the projector and sitting down next to Thomas. “Floor’s yours, Mistah Stein.”


	5. The Prophet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and Buddy introduce two new characters that will be featured in the newest season of "Bendy and the Creator," surprisingly causing some uncharacteristic joy in Sammy Lawrence.

The meeting continued as normally as it could’ve after the discovery of the little Bendy. However, it was rather helpful that the clay figure seemed to had fallen asleep in Shawn’s shirt pocket. Henry dug through his folder, pulling out some concept art for a couple of new characters.

“Since the world is shaped around different parts of our studio, I thought that maybe the Creator and Bendy could encounter a few new faces.” Henry said with a playful expression as he laid the concept art under the projector camera for everyone to see. He locked eyes with Buddy as he did the motion.

The two characters on screen looked almost like silhouettes. Their bodies were entirely composed of what looked like ink. Their eyes and mouths were solid white, the eyes pie cut just like all the other characters in the cartoon. The first one was tall and lanky, his eyes covered by a mask depicting a sheep. He wore a long cape made of wool along with a pair of pants with suspenders, and the signature white gloves that all the characters had. He held a conductor’s wand, and his arms were stretched out as if conducting an orchestra. He smiled as if he was singing. The second one was shorter and a little heavier set. He wore a white bowler cap with a matching button-up and a grey cravat with matching suspenders and pants. He was smiling and plucking a banjo.

Sammy’s eyes seemed to sparkle with joy as he looked at the characters, a wide smile spreading across his usually grumpy face. The music director glanced over to Henry and Buddy in a joyful confusion. Henry just gave him a nod, a smile on his own face. Buddy laughed, surprised by Sammy’s joy. Sammy realized the expression he was making and quickly leaned back into his chair, putting on a more serious, neutral expression, looking away from everyone with a slight blush of embarrassment. He instead focused on the projector screen.

“This is the Prophet and his sidekick, Shepherd,” Henry explained, “I want their realm to reflect the music department, but I also enjoyed the idea of integrating the sheep theme into it as well.”

Wally couldn’t help but laugh. “So, yah said Boris would be in this world. You’re gonna put a wolf among a bunch o’ sheep?” Buddy perked up at this, smiling. 

The other workers couldn’t help but laugh. Even Sammy could be seen trying to hold back a grin. Henry just continued to smile, a few memories running through his head, but he refused to let them phase him, not now. Sammy started scratching at a specific spot on his arm, but nobody seemed to notice him doing so. 

Henry nodded. “Yes, that’s the irony of it. However, I was planning on saving Boris for the end of the new season. Anyway, Sammy?”

Sammy glanced up quickly, as if he’d spaced out, suddenly stopping his scratching and quickly sitting straight. “Sir?”

Henry tilted his head. “You okay?”

Sammy quickly nodded. “Fine, fine, just…” he released a breath. “Thank you, Henry, Mr. Lewek. Your redesign, it means a lot. Thank you.” He couldn’t help himself, a small smile slowly returning to his face as the sparkle remained in his eyes. Buddy smiled back. “No need to be formal, Sammy, just call me Buddy. You’re welcome.” 

Henry slowly returned the smile as well. “No trouble at all. I was just about to ask you, since I don’t have a voice for Prophet or Shepherd, would you and Jack like to voice them? I know that you’ll be busy with songs so I could minimize the lines if you want I was just think-”

“Yes!” Sammy said without hesitation. “Yes, I’d love to! Jack and I are able to work together very efficiently, I’m sure we can get everything done, including voice lines!”

Henry nodded. “Alright, well, talk with Jack about it and then come let me know.”

Shawn glanced up at Henry. “What’s this Prophet and Shepherd like?”

Henry smiled, beaming with pride. “They’re antagonists. They work with the Destroyer and the Ink Demon, sort of as a couple glorified lackeys I guess you could say. However, they’re more working for them by force. Prophet and Shepherd are very close, so the Destroyer threatened Prophet that he’d separate them if they didn’t capture the Creator and Bendy for him. I have a soft spot for a sympathetic villain I guess.”

Wally smirks, a playful look in his eyes. He glanced over to Sammy, who just gave him a confused look. Shawn glanced up at Wally and smiled in understanding. Sammy tilted his head, then just decided to save it for later and glanced up at Henry.

“They sound wonderful, Henry. I’m excited to start writing songs for them. Oh! Speaking of songs…” the musician grabbed the folder and recorder next to him, opening the folder and pulling out a few pieces of scribbly sheet music paper. “I began writing a credit song for the finale. I felt that there should be something different as a sort of surprise for the viewer.”

Henry nodded. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, “Is that what you have on your recording box?”

Sammy hummed a little. “Yes, sir. It’s not complete, it still needs lyrics and a couple of instruments, but I do have most of it done.”

“What’s this little ditty o’ yours called, Sam?” Norman chimed in, a curious expression on his face.

Sammy turned the recorder up to full volume, setting it gently on the table. “I present to you all, “The Lighter Side of Hell.” If you so wish, I will gladly write out an alternative piece as well, “The Darker Side of Heaven.” Yes, I’ll call it that! Anyways, here you go.” The excited musician pressed play.

The piece started off simple. The song was at an easy-to-follow pace, light and free but at the same time giving off a sinister tone, as if there was more than met the ear. Sammy closed his eyes as it played, humming along under his breath as his foot tapped with the tempo. His expression showed his passion, as he seemed to put himself into some sort of unknown character, one that was gentle, kind, yet had more of a broken, angry, even vulnerable ideal to them once you got to know them. He was relaxed, uncharacteristically relaxed, from the pure joy of sharing something he’d written. The song ended quickly, only being about a minute long, but it was still beautiful. 

Sammy opened his eyes once the song was over, noticing everyone staring at him. He quickly glanced away, reverting back to his more stand-off demeanor he was known for, a light blush on his cheeks. “It’s a work in progress, I know it’s not the best…” he stuttered, starting to scratch at his arm again.

Bertrum started to slowly clap, Henry joining him, then Norman, then eventually everyone in the room. “What a wonder you are to have around, Mr. Lawrence,” Bertrum said, his expression genuine.

“Yeah, good song, Sammy,” Norman continued as he walked over to the musician and ruffled his hair as if he were his younger brother, much to Sammy’s dismay.

“Are you sure that you just want to use that for a credit song?” Henry asked the brunette. “I think we should use it as an introductory song for Prophet.”

Sammy glanced over to Henry, his expression full of shock. “Really? You think it’s good enough for that?” He stopped scratching his arm again.

Henry nodded, smiling. “Truly, I do! Sammy, you lack confidence in your own talent. Trust me when I say that I can’t wait to see what you can come up with for a character designed around you. I’m planning out characters based around each of you, and my biggest expectation out of you all is to make your character your own! I mean, we’re an animation studio, creativity is our main focus!”


	6. The Asylum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all he had done at the studio, Joey was sentenced to live in a mental asylum, where only one person has really stayed on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:  
> Mental Asylum  
> Physical Abuse  
> Body Horror

There was one man out of those who suffered under the ink machine that didn't get a job at Henry Stein's. This one man was cruel and insane, everyone believed he was out of his mind. Since this is what was believed of him, he was sent away. Bertrum Piedmont had put it best. 

"For all your talk of dreams, you are the cause of so many nightmares..."

This was the man himself, the one who started it all. The one that helped create something once so beautiful then completely destroyed it by his own irresponsible actions. Joey Drew. 

Joey Drew now lived alone in a small, quiet, padded cell in a mental asylum. He'd been sentenced to life there after all he had done to his poor ex-workers and partner, under a unanimous vote from a jury. 

Now, here he sat in his cell, wearing simple white sweatpants and shirt, his skin ghostly pale from his lack of sun, his blonde hair no longer bright and shiny, now messy and ragged. He spent his days there, talking to himself, constantly whispering things under his breath. He would draw things, though he never was the true artist so it was mostly awful scribbles. Pictures of the characters that made him famous, pictures of the nightmares he'd created, pictures of Henry Stein, the only friend he'd ever known, and the one he'd harmed more than most anyone else for his own selfish needs. Memories play in his head anytime he attempts to draw. Today, a specific one began to play.

-.-

Henry bursts into Joey's office, clearly angry and afraid. His clothes were disheveled, his face red and drenched in sweat, his hands shaking. He glares hard at Joey, gritting his teeth, tears filling his eyes. Oddly enough, something was trickling down his chin, a dark liquid, too dark to be blood. 

"M-Mr. Drew..." Henry starts, keeping himself close to the door as he tosses a folder on the desk. "I-I don't know what you did to me. I-I... I-I don't care, but... I-I'm leaving. I-I'm reporting you to the police and going to a doctor so I can find out what the hell you injected in me. Th-That's my resignation form, sir. G-Goodbye..." he quickly turns, but pauses, holding his gut in indescribable pain.

Joey simply gives a quiet laugh, his expression remaining calm. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, my dear, sweet Henry...” He rolls himself out from behind his desk, wheeling over to the other man as he collapsed to his knees, beginning to choke for unknown reasons. “Even if you report me, the police will never believe you. Even if you go to a doctor, they will not be able to help you. Even if you quit and leave this studio now, I know that you’ll come back.” He gently reaches down, grabbing Henry’s chin and pulling his face up so he’s forced to look him in the eyes. Henry’s expression changes to one of fear as he struggles to breath. 

He begins to cough, slowly at first, then seemingly never ending. He coughs and that same dark, black liquid on his chin pools out onto Joey’s hand, dribbling down his own neck, and staining his clothes. He feels his eyes burn like their being punctured by a box of sewing needles as he begins to cry from the immeasurable pain. However, his tears are not the clear, salty water they usually are. The dark liquid has flooded to his eyes now as he sobs and continues to choke unbearably. The stuff even starts to come out of his nose and ears. He tries to scream, cry for help, do anything to draw attention and get someone to come inside and see what’s happening, but to no avail as the liquid takes over. 

Joey just laughs, watching the display. “My, my, Henry Stein, what a mess you’ve made of yourself, hm?” He continues laughing, his tone remaining even despite the horrific happenings before him. He holds Henry’s chin tighter, almost grasping his neck, then kicks him with his good leg, right in the middle of his chest. The animator doubles back, collapsing in unbearable pain and curling into a helpless heap on the floor. He trembles, terrified and in agony. Joey just smirks at him, turning his wheelchair around and rolling his way back towards the desk. 

However, he should’ve known not to turn his back on his partner. Within the few minutes it takes Joey to readjust himself with his bulky wheelchair, Henry is able to limp his way out of the office, despite his weakness. Once he gets out he runs. He runs and runs, avoiding anyone and anything trying to stop him, running all the way back to the animation department and out the door, a small trail of ink in his wake. 

-.-

Joey laughs at the memory, starting off slow and quiet, but eventually building up into full on uncontrollable chuckles, rolling around on the floor of his cell. When he finally catches his breath, he’s left laying out on his back, looking up at the ceiling. He takes a slow breath, then give a cough, causing a thin bit of black drool to trail out of the corner of his mouth and down the side of his face. 

“You won’t be the only one to come back, Henry. I’ll be back... I’ll be back very soon... and I’ll make sure that your betrayal doesn’t go unpunished~”


End file.
